This is too tiny to even warrant a mention in the grand scheme of things. But a black male teenager rang my doorbell this evening selling candy bars for the Second Chance Youth's something. I am a middle aged white woman and my husband and dog were not home.
I actually rarely answer the door. I had a break-in about 20 years ago and it has made me leery. Plus the old "No Solicitors" thing as well. But I steadily have gotten better and now it's just my mood that dictates whether I answer the door. I have purchased magazine subscriptions on occasion from kids saying they need to win something or other for a scholarship, although I have stopped doing that because I think they are probably backed by some sort of christian school outfit and I also think kids shouldn't have to go door to door begging for scholarship money. I have graciously accepted Jehovah's Witnesses literature while assuring them I am an atheist. And I have tiptoed through the house until I figure whoever is ringing the doorbell is gone. Whatever!
Beside the point, today I am feeling happy with my own space so I answered the door and there was this kid. Selling name brand candy. Looking somewhat miserable and sheepish about it, made a deprecating remark about bugging me.
I told him to come in while I went to get my checkbook and he did, left the door open. I left the room to get my checkbook, the cat wandered out and I hollered "don't let the cat out!" so he shut the door a bit.
Wrote his check, chose my Baby Ruth bars, and sent him on his way.
Now this is where good old liberal guilt comes in, I am feeling pleased with myself for letting this kid in my house.
Then I think...how does this kid know that when I left my room to get my checkbook that I wasn't leaving the room to get a gun to shoot him down? Or to call the police (to be less hyperbolic)?
That was some mutual trust of humanity, in a very small way.